On a night like tonight

The words:

 

Girls, gin, thin

Originally dispersed

Now come together in a terse verse

Originating in London town, circa 1836.

 

I love a foggy pea-souper,

Down on the Kentish marshes,

Or a swirling mist around Whitrchapel

With the Ripper in tow

 

Charlie Dickens is scribbling away

In a dark corner

Of a candle lit room

 

He is thinking that

Gin has a rosy 

Gas lit

Complexion

A glare and glow

That sees it sitting there

Tasting moreishly 

Itself 

 

Give Charkie'a shades a bottle or two,

Green swirling glasses of gin and water:

sup it by the neck

sup it by the glass

Just you remember:

Nothing lasts

Not even laudanum.

 

But, aye. That'll do,

Gin is the drink for YOU.

 

 

I drink it too.